Always Be My Baby
by OogieBoogie
Summary: Draco Malfoy was hit by a curse which turned him into his six year-old self again. And Hermione was asked to take care of him until they develop a cure for him. Oh, baby. (Fluff/cheese.)


_But I can't stand children that much_.

"So yeah, that's what happened," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck, "You're all we've got, 'Mione."

Hermione's brows knitted.

"But why can't he stay with you and Ginny?" she asked.  
"You know how she feels about him, 'Mione …" Harry almost whispered, but was cut off mid-sentence at Hermione's narrowed lids.

"And why am I the best person for this?" she asked.  
"Well, you know – since you're probably the only one who'll be able to tolerate him, because of these _feelings _you have for him …"  
Hermione's lids narrowed even further.

"So you decided to take advantage of my _crush_ on him?"  
"No, not only that, but because I genuinely think you would be able to help out. And let's not forget that you work at the children's wards in St. Mungo's," he said blithely.  
"But that doesn't mean I like them," Hermione huffed.  
"Please, 'Mione?" Harry gave her puppy eyes and she knew there was no backing out. Well, the puppy eyes were partially the reason why she would agree to help out in this unusual predicament. The other reason (the one that outweighed the rest, really) – she thought, as she gazed down at the innocent-looking boy, who was holding Harry's right hand tightly with his left and had a stuffed dragon in his right, his small frame partly hidden by Harry's legs – was the fact that the wide grey-eyes that were looking back at her were definitely the same ones that had been plaguing her dreams for Merlin-knows-how-long. They were the eyes of one Draco Malfoy.

Hermione had a hard time wrapping her head around why she was now looking at a six-year-old Malfoy, who was hiding behind Harry. It had seemed that while Harry and Malfoy were out in the field during one of their normal Auror missions, Malfoy had been hit by a painfully immature yet complex de-aging spell. It had sent him – both physically and mentally – back to nineteen years ago. The spell was initially meant for Harry, but Malfoy had pushed him out of the way and got the brunt of the spell.

Which, sort of made Malfoy noble and heroic. And a thousand times sexier. This didn't help in diminishing Hermione's mad crush on him. If anything, it made her admire him all the more.

Looks like all these years spent in convincing herself that if she were to continue crushing on Malfoy, she would be doomed to spend the rest of her life in painful, unrequited love were gone the minute she saw the six-year old Malfoy gazing up at her innocently. Damn if that didn't make her all mushy inside. Looks like Malfoy had an effect on her all the time, adult or child.

Hermione was dying to say no. But her Gryffindor heart (and ahem, her other heart that solely and mostly beat for Malfoy and Malfoy alone) made that decision for her.

She sighed.  
"Fine, I'll do it."  
"Great! Thank you, 'Mione!" he kissed her cheek and held out Malfoy's hand to her, before letting go and running off to grab some other bags (kid stuff, she presumed) and brought them into her house.

Hermione watched the little boy in front of her, and he watched her back. He was rather shy, keeping his head down but meeting her gaze nonetheless.

She kneeled down on one knee slowly, and held her hand out.

"Hi, Ma-Draco," she said softly, just as she was used to at work.  
Malfoy took her hand and shook it gently, his cheeks rosy.

"You look familiar," he said, voice high-pitched – and Hermione found it mighty, mighty adorable.  
"Well you do know me, in a way. I'm Hermione," Hermione smiled.  
"Her-my-oh-knee," he tried a syllable at a time, and sported a rather smug grin at his accomplishment at getting it right the first time.

"That's it," Hermione beamed, "You'll be staying with me for a bit, while Harry sorts things out, is that okay with you?"

Malfoy nodded in understanding, "Yes, Uncle Harry – I mean, Harry explained everything to me, and that you would take good care of me."  
Hermione cursed under her breath, Harry knew she was going to say yes, damn him!  
"You wouldn't tell him, would you?" Malfoy asked, looking nervous.  
"I'm sorry, tell him what, dear?"  
"About me calling him Uncle Harry a moment ago … the first time I called him that he was absolutely livid and insisted I call him Harry. You wouldn't tell him that I'd called him Uncle, would you?"

Hermione was a little shocked – though she didn't know whether it was because Malfoy had quite a vocabulary at such a young age, or that he had called Harry 'Uncle Harry'.

"No, I won't," she winked and grinned at him. Malfoy grinned back and made Hermione pinky-swear and stepped further into the house, intent on looking around.

"Right, everything you need is in the spare room, 'Mione," Harry grinned, and Hermione resisted from giving him a glare, "I've shrunken all his clothes to fit his current size and umm, well, yeah, that's about it, I guess."

Hermione nodded in acknowledgement.

"How long until you get the cure, Harry?" she asked.  
"A few weeks to –" he sent an apologetic look towards Hermione, "A few months, at most. I'm sorry, Hermione. I really appreciate you doing this, but it's -"  
"No, it's not that, it's just that I feel bad for Malfoy, being stuck in this form. I wouldn't want it to happen to me if I were him. The sooner your team finds the cure, the better," she nodded towards the young Malfoy, who was gently clasping her right hand, looking up at Harry.

Harry gaped at her, as if saying "you're feeling _bad _for _Malfoy_, _really?_" but closed his mouth after looking at Malfoy.

"Alright. Thank you, Hermione," he smiled and gave her a kiss on her cheek before leaving her flat.

Silence.

"So, what shall we do now, Draco?" Hermione smiled and squeezed the little hand in hers.  
Malfoy's eyebrows knitted for a moment, before he broke into a happy smile.

"Let's go play with my toys!" He ran towards the other spare room (now how did he know which room Harry had put his stuff in?), squealing with glee, his stuffed dragon never leaving his grasp.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

They had fallen into a routine quite fast within weeks. To Hermione's surprise, Draco was the total opposite of what she thought he would be like during his childhood days (well, he was quite the git during Hogwarts days). Hermione had him enrolled in a children's day care that was just opposite St. Mungo's and she has lunch with him every day. Draco was quite chatty and Hermione found herself smiling listening to his stories.

"When am I going to go to school, 'Mione?" Draco asked her one day, while nibbling on his sandwich.  
"What do you mean?"  
"It's because that I found out that everybody else around is younger than I am, and they say that at my age, I should be going to kindergarten … why aren't I in kindergarten?"  
"Well … let's just say you're on holiday – a very long one. You're very smart, so the teachers are giving you a bit of time off before you go to elementary school," Hermione lied smoothly, "No kindergarten needed. And day care is just so someone can look after you while I'm at work."

Draco's eyes widened at that and he broke out into a toothy grin, "I knew it. I'm a genius."  
"That you are," Hermione agreed and ruffled his hair.

After work and day care on Mondays, Hermione sits with him while he does his homework and she finds that Draco didn't really need the help. So instead of helping him out, she does her own work while Draco perfectly draws his alphabets and does his plus and minuses.

On Tuesdays, straight after work, they walk home instead of taking the Floo or Apparating. They stop by the park, enjoy the breeze and Hermione buys him his favourite ice-cream - mint and chocolate chips. Hermione couldn't help but find it adorable as Draco manages to get ice-cream on his nose and chin and his fingers. Not to say that Hermione wasn't as bad, Draco had to wipe ice-cream off her face with his already dirty fingers, which made it even worse. Still, Hermione didn't even have the heart to admonish a cheerful and happy Draco. There were times when Draco would pick a random flower and bring it to her, before insisting that she wear it behind her ear.

On Wednesdays, days when Hermione usually has the most cases, she picks him up at the day care quite late. Draco would be patiently waiting for her with his backpack, seated next to his teacher.

"Hi, Draco," Hermione said apologetically one day after a really, _really_ long day. Draco was an unusually intelligent and understanding child. She had explained that he would have to stay back on Wednesdays because she had a lot of work. Draco didn't complain at all.

"I'm really sorry I'm late," Hermione said softly, hoping Draco didn't get mad and refused to talk to her. To her surprise, she found herself missing the little bugger's company when they had a fight over something small (like his refusal to take a shower in the evenings, or when he refused to eat his vegetables).  
"It's okay," Draco grinned and went up to her, immediately grabbing her right hand and waving his teacher goodbye.

"Thank you, Margaret," Hermione said, "It's just that Wednesdays are so demanding for me."  
"I understand, Miss Granger," the teacher smiled serenely, "I can't even begin to imagine a day as a Healer, so I admire you for that. I even admire you for still having time for little Draco here, he's been telling me so many stories about what you both get up to."  
"Oh, did he now?" Hermione laughed.  
"Yes, and he's such a good-looking little fellow – I'm sure his father is so handsome," the teacher giggled scandalously.

Hermione blushed a sudden thought that struck her – what would her kid look like if she had one with Draco Malfoy?

They parted and took the Floo home. As soon as they arrived, Draco dumped his backpack on the floor for Hermione to pick up while shaking her head.  
"'Mione?" Draco called out.  
"Yes, Draco?"

He turned around had such a sad expression that it almost broke Hermione's heart.

"What's wrong?" she asked.  
"Don't my mummy and daddy want me?" He asked in a small voice.  
"What? Of course they do! Why would you ever think that they don't?" Hermione asked, perplexed.  
"Well I keep seeing the other kids with their parents, and I know you're not my mother … so why aren't mine with me?" He asked, almost teary-eyed.

Hermione opened her mouth a couple of times, unsure of what to say. Last she heard, Draco's parents moved to France straight after The War, and Draco had worked hard to clean the Malfoy name and had to deal with a lot of things before finally getting to where he was now.

"They're on holiday, baby, a long holiday, just like you are. When they get back I'm very sure they'll come and get you as soon as possible," Hermione said quickly, "So don't worry your little head over it, alright? They love you and most certainly want you."

_I love you, and most certainly want you too! _A sudden, ferocious voice said at the back of her mind. Hermione shook it off and walked towards Draco.

"Alright?" she asked him.  
Draco nodded and sniffed in response.

"Let's have dinner, shall we? I bet you're starving," Hermione grinned as she saw the change in expression on Draco's face.  
"What are we having?" Draco asked.  
"Well, whatever it is, it'll have bacon."

Draco shouted for joy at the thought of bacon. The boy simply loved bacon. During breakfast every morning, he insisted his plate be filled with bacon. Hermione now had an endless supply of bacon in her refrigerator.

After dinner, they'd sit on the floor in the living room with Draco's box of crayons and a bunch of colouring books.

On Thursdays, however, were difficult for Draco. The first Thursday that Hermione had with Draco, she was woken up by terrible screaming and crying, coming from Draco's room. Hermione had launched off her bed and rushed towards his room, wand at the ready. Draco had been trashing around violently, tears streaming down his face while screaming at the top of his lungs. Hermione had woken him up, heart beating furiously. Draco's eyes snapped open – wide and fearful – before collapsing against Hermione, arms tight around her neck as he sobbed into her shoulder.

Rubbing soothing circles around his back while waiting for him to calm down, Hermione had gently asked him what he had dreamt about.

"It was a man, in an ugly mask, in black robes … pointing his wand towards me, and when he did it started hurting and I begged him to stop but he just kept on laughing and laughing and it was so painful, 'Mione," he had said. He refused to be left alone after his nightmare and insisted on not sleeping alone, so Hermione had carried him back to her bedroom, where they both had fallen asleep hand-in-hand.

It happened every Thursday, and the nightmare was the same. Hermione had suspected it was because Thursday was the day that Draco got hit by the curse.

Fridays were a merry affair for the both of them. Hermione was always happy on Fridays because it was the last working day of the week, and Draco was always happy because Fridays meant movie nights for the both of them. Hermione would rent a Muggle Disney cartoon and they would watch with bowls of popcorn. Draco had liked Hercules the best.

After the movie, Hermione would then race him up the stairs to his bedroom before tucking him in with his stuffed dragon, Orion.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Hermione woke to kisses peppering her face on a Saturday, followed by childish giggles. She cracked one eye open and saw a blurry outline of a blond child, grey eyes alight with glee.

"Draco?" Hermione called. More giggles in response.  
"I saw Harry and Ron do that to you whenever they visit and it seemed fun."  
"Do what?" she asked in confusion.  
"Kiss your face," he answered simply.

Ah, how romantic. If only this was the older version that was speaking to her.

"Why do you look constipated, 'Mione?"

Hermione snapped out of her thoughts and concentrated on Draco again.

"Breakfast?" she asked, half-yawning half-stretching.  
"Yes, please!" he squealed with joy before bouncing off the bed, and only footsteps were heard thundering down the steps after he left the room.

"Do you have a boyfriend, 'Mione?" Draco had asked while chewing on his bacon. Hermione paused in the middle of frying eggs and laughed before she turned to face him.

"No, Draco, I don't," she said, still laughing.  
"Why not?" he asked, eyeing his bacon rather greedily.  
"Well … most boys don't think I'm," she paused, searching for the right word to make Draco understand that she was not that what most men look for (in example, appealing, skanky, wild, bordering-on-trashy, girly girls), "Not really pretty."

Draco frowned deeply at that, still chewing on his breakfast.  
"But I think you're pretty, 'Mione."  
"Oh, thanks," she laughed, as she scooped an egg into his plate, "But I don't think you'd ever let your adult self say that, let alone feel that."  
"Silly 'Mione," he shook his head, "Even when I grow up, I'll still think you're the prettiest. In fact, when I grow up to your age I'd even make you my girlfriend!"

Hermione laughed again, and almost started tutoring him on the logicality of the 'when I grow up to be your age' phrase, because if he was stuck in this form forever, she'd be forty-four when he reaches twenty-five.

Thankfully, his condition was not permanent and they would one day be of the same again.

_And hopefully, he'd keep to his promise! _The same ferocious voice growled at the back of her mind again.

"I also want to become an Auror when I grow up."

Hermione grinned at that, and thought to herself, _you already are one_.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

"We've got great news, 'Mione," Harry beamed at her after dinner during their usual Sunday gatherings at The Burrow.

"Oh, what's it?" She asked, sipping on some wine, as she watched Draco run around and play with Bill and Fleur's daughter and George and Angelina's son.

"The Potions team had just contacted us yesterday," Ron chirped in, "They've finally finished developing the cure for Malfoy!"  
"Oh, really?" Hermione almost squealed with delight, "That's brilliant! Fantastic, fantastic news!"  
"Yeah, and they'll have it in by end of next week. We'll personally come and deliver it to you."

Hermione beamed and was relieved at the fact that finally, _finally _after months; Draco would be able to return to his life.

At that thought, Hermione felt a dull ache in her chest.

_Return to his life_.

Hermione's eyes flittered over to Draco's running form.

"Don't worry, 'Mione, he'll be fine," Harry said, "Everything will be back to normal."  
"Right," Hermione said, a little sadly.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

It was a Friday when Hermione saw Harry and Ron. They came in, chatted and had a couple of drinks but the only thing that Hermione could concentrate on was the vial that Harry had in his hands.

It was the cure for Draco.

"Give it to him before he goes to bed," Harry had instructed. "He will wake up as his normal self."  
"But how's he going to react when he wakes up?" Ron asked.

Hermione thought of a solution first.  
"I'll write an explanatory letter explaining everything in detail and leave it at the bedside table. So when Malfoy wakes up in confusion and whatever, he'll read the note first before letting himself out," Hermione said, trying to mask her sadness.  
"That sounds good," Ron and Harry nodded.  
"Yeah, so that's that … thanks, guys," she grinned before giving each of them a hug.

After they had left, Hermione had her usual movie night with Draco, before racing him up the stairs into his bedroom. This time, before immediately tucking him into his covers, she had asked him to drink whatever that was in the vial.

"What is this?" he asked.  
"Something to help you sleep better," she said casually.  
"Oh, alright then," he shrugged and drank it in one gulp.

Hermione stared at the patterns of his covers, tracing them mindlessly.

"You know, I'm going to miss you, Draco," Hermione smiled sadly at him.  
"Silly 'Mione," he grinned, "I'm not going anywhere."

He yawned and settled back into his pillow, getting himself comfortable.

"Goodnight," she said, ruffling his hair.  
"Goodnight, see you tomorrow," he replied.

She got up and shut the door quietly before walking into her study. Taking a quill and a sheet of parchment, she began to write.

_Malfoy,  
I know you don't remember a thing but this is what happened to you -_

She mentioned everything important in detail and ended the letter with a 'you may let yourself out. Have a nice life.'

After having written the letter, she tiptoed back into a sleeping Draco's room, planting the letter on the bedside table. Glancing back on last time, she shut the door and proceeded to jump into her own bed, feeling really _really _sad.

**x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.**

Hermione woke to kisses showering her face.

While being semi-conscious, she knew it was a Saturday. Which meant that –

"Draco?" she asked groggily.

_Perhaps the potions hadn't worked?_

"Yes?"  
Hermione stiffened.

Instead of the usual childish giggles and high-pitched voice she was expecting, all she heard was a low, breathy, male voice.

Her eyes snapped open, immediately meeting stormy grey ones staring back at her.  
It was the adult version of Draco Malfoy – all blond messy hair with pale, strong features and intense grey eyes.

"Y-you, w-what – w-hat are you doing here, M-Malfoy?" she stammered.  
"What does it look like, Granger?" He grinned, resting his face on one hand, "I'm waking you up."  
"But – did you read the letter?" she asked.  
"I did," he replied simply.  
"And?"  
"And I remember everything," he said.

"Oh," Hermione responded dumbly.

"And you know what else I happen to remember?" he asked.  
"What?"  
"The day I got cursed, was the same day that Harry told me that you've been half in love with me for these past few years."

Hermione gaped at him, swearing to kill Harry as soon as she saw him.

"And that I told him," he continued, "that I probably feel the same way so I should get 'round to asking you out on a date and make you my girlfriend as soon as that mission was finished."

Draco met her eyes at that.

"But it looks like my child self beat me to it."

Hermione laughed and shook her head, feeling really, really silly all of a sudden.

"Though I happen to remember my child self telling you that I'd make you my girlfriend when I grow up," he said, "So, Hermione …" he paused.

Hermione held her breath.

"How 'bout it?" he grinned.  
"You'd have to take me out for a couple of dinners first," she smiled back.

"That I can do," he said before leaning in to give her a chaste kiss on her lips.  
"Yeah, adult or child, I guess you'll always be my baby."

**Fin!**

**Okay, that was fluffy and bordering on cheesy but the idea of the story kept me awake for so many nights that I had to let it out. Hope you enjoyed that one! *bakes cookies for readers***


End file.
